Honest Illusions
by ShellSueD
Summary: Things aren't always what they seem, at least that's what Ranger hopes when he sees Stephanie enjoying the annual office party without him. One-shot.


_Big thanks to LilyGhost who came up with the title and summary and to her and Margaret for being my sounding boards. Thanks to alix33 for the excellent beta work.  
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_JE owns all rights to anything familiar, all mistakes are mine.  
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_**NOTE: Remember things aren't always what they seem**_

* * *

There wasn't even a question, I was screwed.

No, that's not a strong enough word. I was fucked. Truly and royally _fucked._

It's my own fault; I'm self-aware enough to admit that. If I'd only gone with my gut instinct and terminated her employment, I wouldn't be in this..._state_.

But did I? Of course I fucking didn't. She needed money and health insurance and despite popular belief, I am not a cold-hearted bastard. Not _entirely_, anyway. So even after the fight and all the ugly things she said and the even uglier ones that fell from my mouth, she was still a full-time employee and that is why she just walked into the company party I throw every year.

I'm not the only one who noticed her arrival. Several heads turned to watch her entrance and what a sight it was. Her black dress was short, her heels were high and the soft pink gloss coating her lusciously full lips had my undivided attention.

She looked hotter than any woman had the right to and my cock was as hard as a teenager's in the middle of puberty who'd just seen his first Playboy.

Her crystal blue eyes scanned the room once and then again like she was looking for someone. That someone used to be me, but this time they settled on Santos. A small smile lifted the corners of her mouth when she spotted him at the bar and I felt myself frowning.

I didn't know what was going on between the two of them and I no longer had the right to ask, but I wanted to know. _Jesus_, did I want to know. I thought, okay _hoped_, they were just friends because she'd mentioned to me repeatedly that she thought Lester was an idiot, but my cousin had charmed the pants off more than one woman who'd thought _way _worse things about him.

What I _did_ know, is if he was fucking her, I might actually lose my goddamned mind.

I normally didn't listen to the idle chatter of the men on the control room floor because it was nothing but sexcapades and gossip, but one day as I was heading out of the building I heard one of them say her name so I stopped outside the door and listened. Apparently they'd been spending a lot of time together, working the same shifts, and then going out _after_ work. My first reaction was to activate both their trackers right then and see if they were together but I put it aside and continued on my way.

The next time I listened - _yes, I did it again_ - I heard he'd made an appearance at a Plum family dinner. That didn't mean they were seeing each other; Stephanie was always bringing someone to dinner. I'd been to more than one myself.

I could ask - _of course I could ask – _however, I promised myself I wouldn't get involved in her personal life anymore and I wasn't about to break that vow. Shit, I hadn't even _seen_ her for a month. _The longest four weeks of my life._

But here she was, in that fucking dress I knew first hand didn't lend itself to a bra _or_ panties and all I wanted to do was drag her from the room, find the closest available private space and bury my dick so far inside her it would never find its way out.

Instead, I discreetly adjusted myself under the table so I didn't bust right through the zipper of my pants and tracked her every move as she made her way through the crowd toward the bar.

"What do you think, Ranger?"

I was vaguely aware there were other people around me having a conversation but I hadn't heard a single syllable since she entered the room.

"Yeah, sure," I replied absently, not caring if the response didn't match the question. And then Lester had his arms around her and was leaning in…

The beer bottle I'd been holding shattered in my hand, spilling the dark lager all over the pristine white tablecloth.

"_Jesus,"_ someone muttered. "You're bleeding."

I looked down at the mess I'd created, which was probably a good thing because if I'd kept my eyes on Stephanie, this might have ended with the bottle being smashed over Lester's head.

The cuts on my thumb and ring finger were superficial and I didn't even feel them but they were generating quite a bit of blood flow. "Go get Bobby," Tank instructed someone. I didn't bother to look and see who.

"What the fuck was that?" Tank asked and I lifted my eyes to his.

"Weak glass constitution?"

"Right." We both knew that was bullshit. I must have been squeezing pretty fucking hard to break the bottle. Tank cut his eyes to the dance floor and an eyebrow arched at whatever he saw. I knew without looking Stephanie and Lester must be dancing and I willed my neck not to turn my head. I was afraid I'd do something incredibly stupid if I saw them grinding on each other.

Tank's gaze came back to mine and his mouth opened but Bobby arrived at that moment, cutting off whatever he was going to say and I was grateful. Tank was the only one who wasn't afraid to call me out on anything and everything and I did not want to hear it. Not then and not ever.

"What did that beer do to you?" Bobby asked with a grin and I had the urge to roll my eyes. Everything made me want to roll my eyes lately and I _never_ rolled my eyes. That was a Stephanie thing. I didn't allow it from the men – it was disrespectful and annoyed the shit out of me, but when she did it I didn't mind. It actually made me smile. Most things she did made me smile.

_God, I miss her. _

"Funny," I said. "Do you have a kit in your car?"

"Yeah, I do. Zip is bringing it in. Let's go get it cleaned off." He gestured to the long hallway that leads to the restrooms and I followed him without another word.

Bobby carefully washed my hand with antibacterial soap at a sink and was drying it with a paper towel when Zip walked in with the first-aid kit. He was new enough that he didn't ask questions; in fact he didn't say a word. He just handed the box to Bobby and then exited the restroom.

Unfortunately, Bobby didn't follow his lead.

"What's going on with you?" He asked as he applied liquid skin to the wounds on my fingers, quickly stopping the now only trickling of blood.

"Nothing," I said with a tone that implied I didn't want to have a conversation of any kind.

He finished what he was doing, closed up the kit and then leaned against the marble sink counter, crossing his arms over his chest. He regarded me critically through his soft brown eyes and finally said, "Bullshit."

This was new. Bobby wasn't one for contradicting me. I raised a brow, daring him to continue.

"You've had a permanent scowl on your face for weeks and your cheeks are so gaunt I can tell you aren't eating enough to counteract the insane amount of running you've been doing." He paused, maybe waiting for a response. I didn't give him one which I instantly regretted when he took that as a sign to continue on. "The noxiously foul mood you seem to have permanently adopted is making everyone tense and now you're crushing beer bottles with your bare hands - so what's the deal?"

I've trained all of them to be hyper-aware of everything around them so the fact he'd noticed I haven't quite been myself shouldn't have been surprising. I think I was more shocked I'd let myself be that transparent than anything else.

"I'll get it under control," I promised after a few beats of silence.

He let out a soft sigh and dropped his defensive posture. "I'm worried about you, man."

"I appreciate your concern," I said and it even sounded mechanical to me, "but I'm okay."

"No you're not," he said gently with a shake of his head. Knowing he'd pushed me too far as it was, he wisely let it drop. "Are you coming back to the party?"

"Yes. I'll be out in a minute."

He opened his mouth but closed it quickly, deciding against whatever else he wanted to say and I breathed a sigh of relief when he nodded his head and left me alone.

I dropped my palms flat onto the surface of the counter and leaned towards the mirror above the bank of sinks trying to see what Bobby saw when he looked at me.

I _was_ scowling and my face _did_ appear a little thinner than normal. I hadn't had much of an appetite and Tank mentioned yesterday he'd never seen me spend so much time running. It was probably excessive but I couldn't seem to stop. It was the only time when I could let my mind go blank. Where I didn't have to think about anything or anyone. Where I didn't have to think about _her_.

As far as my mood…I couldn't deny that either. I wasn't in a good place and was apparently letting everyone around me know it. That could _not _continue. I was the leader of the strange mix of merry men that chose to work for me and they all followed by example. If I was being an asshole, they were going to be assholes. It wouldn't be good for anyone.

I splashed some cold water on my face before returning to the party with a grim determination to have a good time. Or, at least convincingly pretend to.

When I arrived back in the main room, there was still a crowd on the dance floor and I strode right through the middle of the pack, the quickest route to the bar. I caught a glimpse of Stephanie's hair and of her black dress and I knew by the faint hint of Dolce Vita that I'd come very close to where she was. I forced myself not to look and kept moving.

I ordered a shot of Grey Goose the second I stepped up to the bar. If I was going to try and enjoy myself, might as well start out with an assist.

"I haven't seen you drink vodka since our last tour overseas." Tank materialized at my side just as I set down the empty shot glass. For an enormous man, he moved as silently as a snake in the grass.

I signaled the bartender for a second. "Did you have a point or are you just feeling nostalgic?" It sounded a little harsher than I'd intended and not conducive to the good time having that was my new goal, so before he could answer I said, "Do you want to join me?"

Tank searched my face, for what I wasn't sure, and then lifted a shoulder. "Sure. It's a party, right?"

He caught up to me and then we knocked back two more, which in hindsight was a mistake. The alcohol worked its way into his bloodstream and I got an unwanted reminder that vodka makes him aggressive - and brutally honest.

"How long are you and Stephanie going to ignore each other?" He asked after setting the fourth glass on the bar. "And should I make sure Bobby is on stand-by?" He gestured to the beer bottle in my hand.

_Snarky bastard_. "I think I can manage," I said taking a sip and ignoring his first question. I was starting to feel buzzed so I'd switched to beer, thinking this one would be the last. Despite my resolve to have a good time, getting shitfaced was not part of the plan. I didn't need or want to lose that much control.

Tank was not to be deterred. "You're aware you've been a first class asshole lately, right? Since I know of only one thing that can affect your mood in such a manner I'm guessing something went down between the two of you."

I sighed internally and took another sip. _I should have acted on the compulsion I had to leave when she walked through the door. _"What is it going to take to get you to drop this?"

He shook his head and followed my lead, ordering a beer. "Not dropping shit. What happened?"

I cut my eyes to the dance floor, remembering a second too late that I didn't want to see what was going on out there. There was a flash of black and then a hand touching where only _I _should be allowed to touch. I closed my eyes briefly at the sudden sharp pain in my chest and then looked back at Tank.

"We had a disagreement."

He lifted a huge eyebrow. "A disagreement," he echoed. "That's all you're going to give me?"

I pushed off the edge of the bar where we'd both been leaning and pulled out a stool. I turned away from him and settled down onto the seat. I finished the beer and asked for another. Later, _much_ later, I would reluctantly admit to that last beer being a bad decision.

"Conversation over, Tank," I said, leaving what I thought was no room for argument.

"I don't think so," he said and the gentle tone of his voice belied the fire behind his eyes. Dragging out another stool, he sat beside me. "You've obviously been keeping something buried, something bad, and you're gonna tell me about it whether you want to or not because it's starting to affect more than just the two of you and I've had about all I can take of your shitty attitude."

The problem with alcohol, especially with men like Tank and me, is it makes it harder for us to keep our anger in check. We spend most days with a tight grasp on every emotion we have – yes we _do_ have them – and too much booze loosens that control. I'd had just enough that only a gossamer thread remained of mine.

I swallowed half the beer in my hand and set it down with more force than intended. It clattered on the wood and turned a few heads in our direction.

"I don't want to talk about it," I said, trying one last time even though I knew by this point he wouldn't go for it.

"And I don't care." He emptied his bottle and ordered another before saying again, "What happened?"

That was a loaded question without an easy answer. I braced my elbows on the bar and rubbed at my temples. I was on the verge of losing it and talking about Stephanie would only make it worse. Besides, I wasn't clear on what actually had occurred. One minute she'd been clawing the shit out of my back, screaming my name with her second orgasm and the next we were arguing about the revolving door she wouldn't permanently close on Morelli, the current status of our pseudo relationship and the fact neither one of us were great at communicating. Then I got an emergency call about a break-in at a high-end security client and had to leave. She was quiet while I dressed and as I was walking out her bedroom door she left me with a final parting thought.

_I don't think I can do this anymore…I don't want to see you for a while._

I hadn't seen her since. And now Tank wanted to talk about that shitshow? Not happening.

"What happened is none of your fucking business. It's my shit and I'm dealing with it." I downed the last of the beer and slammed the bottle on the bar. Luckily it didn't break. "Let. It. Drop." I said the last part through clenched teeth so I didn't scream it at him.

"Was that an attempt to intimidate me? That's cute, Ricardo." Tank knows I hate being called by my given name so he was deliberately jabbing at my buttons and I was letting him get under my skin. I could feel the blood beginning to vibrate in my veins. He was a big guy but I'd taken him down more than once - maybe he needed a refresher course on those facts.

"Do we need to take this outside?" I kept my voice low and steady even as my hands were curling into fists.

He rolled his eyes. _He fucking rolled his eyes. _I almost punched his big fat head right then.

"No, you stupid shit. I'm not going to fight you. You're in no condition to take me on - I'd kill you. I'm trying to get you to acknowledge there is a problem and everyone is starting to notice. It's a destructive path and you'll take everyone down with you if you're not careful. So tell me what the fuck happened that makes what's going on out there right now okay with you." He pointed to the dance floor and my eyes followed against my will.

Lester's left hand was low on her right hip, gripping tightly and even from that distance I could see the slow circles of his thumb. I knew how thin the material of her dress was and that she'd be able to feel every soft stroke. Both her hands were around his neck and they were grinding to the steady beat of a song I didn't know. When he leaned down and nuzzled his face in her neck I actually heard the snap in my brain. It was as loud as a clap of thunder and as quick as a flash of lightning I was off the barstool and stalking across the floor.

Tank made a feeble attempt to stop me but nothing could have.

All I remember is the widening of Stephanie's eyes as I clamped my hand around Lester's neck and wrenched him away from her. His feet left the ground a few inches before I threw him in the opposite direction.

He never made a sound.

I closed my fingers around her upper arm and started pulling her out of the now silent room. All eyes were on us as we went but no one made a move to intercede.

I tugged her down the long hallway at a quick pace, only hearing the click of her heels as she tried to keep up.

"Ranger," she finally said with a tight and clipped voice. "I can't walk that fast in these shoes. You have to slow down or let me go."

I didn't like either of those options so I swung around and lifted her into my arms, dropping her over my shoulder without breaking stride.

Another ten feet and I was opening the door to the manager's office. I knew it would be empty as I'd seen him at a table having a beer with Ram. I flicked on the light, slammed the door closed and flipped the lock before setting her on her feet. I pressed her back against the door and caged her in with my palms flat on either side of her shoulders.

"What the fuck are you trying to do to me, Stephanie?"

Both eyebrows lifted and I didn't know if it was in response to the curse, the noticeable beer on my breath or the rasp of my usually clear and unwavering voice.

"Are you drunk?" She countered after a beat.

It was a fair question but I didn't find it relevant. "No, I'm not." I wasn't. I was close, but not drunk. "And I'm asking the questions. Lester? What the actual fuck?"

Anger flickered through the deep blue of her eyes and she worked the muscle in her jaw. "I thought you didn't care who I chose to spend time with? See and do whatever and whoever you want, isn't that what you said - or don't you remember?"

"I know what I said," I bit out sharply. I hadn't meant a word and regretted each and every one the second they left my mouth. It was too late by then to take it back.

She took a breath and let it out slowly. "Then I don't understand why we're here. Maybe we should get back to the party."

She was right. I shouldn't keep her here against her will. There were probably a dozen people on the other side of the door just waiting for any indication they needed to bust it down and rescue her. Even knowing that, I couldn't make myself move. My eyes fell closed and I dropped my chin to my chest. "I can't take it, Steph. Seeing his hands on you makes me feel insane." I lifted my head and met her eyes. "If he touches you again bones are going to get broken."

"You don't get to make that decision, Ranger."

_Hell if I don't. _ I pressed my body into hers and dropped a hand to her shoulder. "Does it feel the same, Babe?" I asked softly, bending my head so our mouths were a mere inch apart. "When he kisses you, is it the same?" I slid my fingers across her collarbone and dipped my thumb into the hollow of her neck. "Does it light your blood on fire until you think you'll combust with every brush of his lips?" I slid my hand around her neck and sank my fingers into her hair. I cupped the back of her head in my palm and crashed my mouth on to hers.

I was hard the second hers opened and she let my tongue invade every crevice. I kissed her until she was whimpering soft little sounds and her knees started to wobble. "Is it like that? Do your knees go week at the touch of his tongue?" I ran mine over the line of her jaw until I reached the sensitive skin just below her earlobe. "Does he know about this spot?" I asked against her skin before I latched on with the gentle suck I know drives her mad. She gasped, drawing in a shaky breath and I did it again.

"Or what about this one?" I shifted my stance so she could feel every inch of what she was doing to me. What she _always_ did to me. Running my fingers down her torso, I stopped at the place on her side right at the edge of her full breast and rubbed gently with my thumb. Her eyes closed and her head tilted back against the door.

"You're being unfair," she breathed.

As a response I bent my head and kissed the exposed skin of her chest, following the neckline of her dress that dipped low into her cleavage.

"And you were being fair, wearing this dress? You know very well what it does to me." I pressed my erection into her hip in case she needed a reminder.

She let out what I thought was an involuntary moan and my cock twitched in response. "You let Lester touch you in this dress. What else have you let him do? This?" I stretched my arm down, bending slightly until I could reach her knee. Lifting her leg, I slid my hand under the thin shimmery fabric and trailed it up the inside of her thigh, taking the skirt with it.

Her breaths were starting to come in short little pants as my fingers reached the apex of her thighs. I ran them along the seam and had to stop and control my own irregular breathing when the tips brushed along the outer edge of her lips. This was too dangerous of a game for me to be playing and she'd figure out she actually had all the power soon enough. I dropped my forehead to hers, closed my eyes and dug my fingers into her quad muscle.

"Tell me you don't want me, Babe. Tell me right now and I'll walk away."

I listened to the rapid beating of my heart as I waited for the words that never came. I don't know how much time passed but I only moved when I was sure I wouldn't tear open my pants and take her up against the door. There were things that needed to be said before that happened.

I pulled back slightly, but didn't let her go. "Are you sleeping with him?" Even though I already knew the answer, I needed to hear it from her.

She swallowed and licked her lips before responding. "Do you really think we would be here, in this…_position_, if I were?"

"No," I had to admit. "He would be dead and I would be in jail."

She smiled for the first time and my heart did a slow turn inside my chest. "Lester and I are friends. That's all we've ever been, but he's shitfaced tonight and I let him get a little too handsy."

"A little?"

She gave me the tiniest of eye rolls and shook her head. "It's always been you, Ranger. Since the first day we met – we just…we seem to be having a hard time figuring out what to do about it. I mean, we love each other, right? So why are we making this so hard?"

I released her leg abruptly, surprising us both, and let if fall back to the floor. I took a step back from her so I could see her face clearly.

"You love me? You've never said it before."

"And every time _you've_ said it, it's always been chased by a qualifier. We need to get our shit together, Ranger, because I can't take this anymore. Four weeks. I haven't seen you in four weeks and I was about to lose my damn mind."

"I think I lost mine two weeks ago," I said and she flashed a full blown smile. "Well if not then, you certainly lost it tonight. Is Lester going to need medical attention?"

"I don't know and I don't care. He's lucky I didn't rip his arms out of the sockets and beat him to death with them. I _am_ sorry if it upset you. That wasn't my intention."

She shook her head and then took my hand, lacing our fingers together. "What upset me is the way we left things between us. We said a lot of ugly things."

"That we didn't mean."

"True," she agreed, "but we still said them and it made me feel so _hopeless_, Ranger." Her eyes pooled with unshed tears and I extracted my hand so I could pull her into my arms. "I thought that was the end for us and…it nearly broke me."

I knew exactly what she meant. "Me too, Steph." I squeezed her tighter and placed a kiss on the crown of her head. "We'll figure it out," I promised. "It probably won't be perfect, but we'll make it work because I won't accept any other option, will you?"

"No. Nothing else works for me. No one has ever made me feel the way I feel when I'm with you and can't give that up – I won't."

"Me either," I agreed and tilted her head up so I could place a gentle kiss on her mouth. "There is a lot more to say, but I don't want to have the rest of this conversation here. Will you come home with me?"

"Only if you kiss me again."

_Like I would ever say no to that._

#########

"That is going leave a nasty bruise; it's already starting to turn purple." Tank was inspecting the distinctive finger shaped marks on Lester's neck. "Does it feel like anything is broken?"

"No, it's fine," Lester said rubbing his palm over it. "It'll be sore for a while, but it was totally worth it."

Tank went entirely still as all the pieces slowly clicked into place. "Motherfucker," he breathed. "You set this up. Was Stephanie a part of it?"

"Of course not." Lester rolled his eyes in a perfect imitation of the woman in question. "Like she would do something like that."

Tank took a sip of beer and handed Lester the towel filled with ice the bartender supplied. "You do realize he could have killed you, right?"

Lester grinned and pressed the compress to his neck. "No way. Our Grandma would skin him alive. Ranger needed a push and I knew if he thought I was getting restricted access to his woman, he'd go all caveman."

"That he did," Tank nodded. They both glanced down the hallway where the two clueless lovers had disappeared after Lester had been thrown across the room. "Now hopefully they won't screw it up again."

"Fingers crossed," Lester said. "_Jesus._ I need a beer."

"You need scotch," Tank countered and ordered him one. "I just have one more question."

"What's that?"

"Why was Stephanie letting you get so close if she wasn't in on it?"

"Because I was pretending to be bombed. She just thought I was so drunk I didn't know what I was doing. She never did let me completely cross the line."

"But of course you tried."

Lester lifted a shoulder. "It's me we're talking about. She wouldn't have believed it if I didn't try."

Tank barked out a laugh. "You're probably right." The scotch arrived and Tank lifted his glass in a toast. "Well done, you sick little degenerate."

Lester grinned and they clinked glasses before tossing back the deep amber liquid.

"I hope it works."

"It will," Lester professed. "Those two have been nuts for each other since the day they met. There aren't any other options."

"True," Tank agreed. "Another?" he raised his glass in question.

"Absolutely." The bartender obliged and just as the drink touched their tongues a hush fell over the crowd.

Stephanie appeared at the end of the hallway with Ranger close at her back. They made their way along the edge of the room and headed for the exit without acknowledging a single soul. Lester took note of their entwined hands as they left the building and turned back to Tank.

"I'm a fucking genius."

"You're something, alright," Tank said with a small eye roll of his own and ordered them one more drink before they called for a car to take them home.


End file.
